


The Rain Whispers Your Secrets

by ThePrincePeach



Series: The corpse in the corner begins to weep at what was taken from him. [8]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Body Horror, Canonical Character Death, Corpse Desecration, Corpses, Dialogue Heavy, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Haunting, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Other, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, if i need more tags please let me know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29668023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrincePeach/pseuds/ThePrincePeach
Summary: Despite the constant, soft 'shh' brought by rain, it cleanses the world and reveals every secret.
Series: The corpse in the corner begins to weep at what was taken from him. [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815121
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	The Rain Whispers Your Secrets

Brenton hurriedly opened the door after a series of loud, urgent knocking at the front door. It was late, rain poured down and let out a familiar smell that brought both comfort and an unease Brenton wasn’t quite sure of. He opened the door and stared, in surprise, at Jeremy who stood on the porch with one hand buried deep into his hoodie pocket and one hand jolting back from the door. They locked eyes and as the rain beat against the roof of the porch, onto the mud outside, he heard it shower. Puddles had formed long before Jeremy’s arrival. Brenton swallowed nervously. 

“I’m ready to talk,” Jeremy mumbled with urgency in his tone, with dread following. His eyes looked hauntingly pale, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes sunken in. When did he eat last? When did he sleep last? Brenton, stunned, didn’t feel himself move aside to allow the man to come in, nor did he realize how softly he mumbled a ‘come in’. Jeremy stole a glance over his shoulder before shuffling in. Brenton closed the door behind him after taking his own glance to the darkened street. Was Jeremy being followed? He looked back to the older man as he stood in the entryway. Without looking back to the other, he repeated himself, “I’m ready to talk.” 

“Now?” Brenton whispered, gripping onto the front of his shirt to keep from fidgeting. 

“I came here as soon, as soon as I found it. I found it, Brenton, I knew I should give it back. I broke into the pizzeria, I know I shouldn’t, I did. I had to find it. I, I did. I found it. I wrecked the place, but I found it.” Jeremy swiftly pulled his hand from his hoodie pocket and revealed it to Brenton. “I found him.” 

…

Brenton’s leg bounced nervously and his hands remained folded in front of his mouth, staring with tear-filled eyes at the floor. Jeremy sat across from him, his own gaze locked onto the cup of tea Brenton had so graciously made for him. To warm his bones. Would he ever be warm again? Brenton felt ill. 

“I’m sorry, Brenton,” Jeremy started, his own hands held tightly in his lap, “Did Mike know?” 

“No one knew,” The other replied, giving a small shrug with it, “It killed me that I couldn’t tell Mike, but, but I couldn’t.” 

“Did Noel know?” 

“If he did, he never brought it up. He never stared at me funny.” 

“Noel wouldn’t do that.” 

Brenton nodded slowly and rubbed his mouth, then turned to his own cup sitting nearby. His drink, coffee, tasted so bitter it reminded him of the bile building up in the back of his throat. He sipped from it slowly and let it sit silently back onto the table. It had grown lukewarm. Everything felt lukewarm if not cold now at this point. Brenton rubbed his mouth again.

“You found him, that’s what you said,” Brenton mumbled, “You said you found him. Where is he?” 

“He was—” 

“Was?” 

“… He was in the basement. At some point. He was in the basement.” Jeremy shook his head and laced his fingers through his hair, giving it a nervous tug. “There’s a backroom, it has a big metal door. Mike,” Jeremy noticed Brenton’s wince at the name but continued, “saw his body. He saw something, it, it looked like Paul. That’s what he told me. I came downstairs and Mike was curled up on the floor and crying and staring at the door, he, he looked like he… God, I don’t know. His face was all, all blank. He looked asleep. He was awake and crying and he looked asleep. Ya’ know? I, I don’t know how to tell you this accurately. I swear to God he looked grey, his face, his eyes, his tone, it all was just…. Grey.”

“… Grey…? What, what do you mean he looked grey?” 

“I can’t explain it. It was grey. He was grey. Literally and emotionally and, and just, just grey. I looked at the door, I looked through the little window—” 

“Window? There was a window?” 

“There’s this, this slot on the door. It looks like a window, I guess. No, no window was the wrong word. It’s a slot. It locks and moves from the outside, you look in through it. Why a pizzeria has it, I can’t tell you.” The older man held his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Every detail haunted him and wailed for their story to be told. He told them in a shaky voice. “I looked into the slot, I saw… Him. I saw him.” 

Brenton looked up. 

“He looked so sad…” The older man sniffled. “I think I heard him crying. I just wanted to go in and hold him like when he was a kid. I used to babysit him and his brother when they were younger, Noel ah, Noel gave me the side job of watching them when he was busy and I didn’t have work at the pizzeria. Ah, I’m going off-topic, I’m sorry. Uh,” He shook his head, “I heard him crying. I heard something from in that room. It might have been crying. It might have been, been singing? I don’t know why he’d be singing. I don’t know who’d be singing. It was something… Musical. But sad. I thought he was crying. Was he? Do, do you know? Did Mike say anything?” 

Brenton slowly shook his head and Jeremy nodded, then looked back down. 

“I… I might had another seizure after that, sometime after that, I hit my head,” The older continued, “I forget so much after having a seizure, I think the kid told you, I’m epileptic. He might have told you. But, but I broke in. I know that. I broke in tonight.”

“And you found where he was?” Brenton asked slowly. Jeremy nodded. 

“I heard him, I found, found him.” The older rambled almost frantically as if his mind would forget it all over again. “There was a pile in the corner of the backroom, I smelled it before I saw it and it, it smelled like… I don’t know. It smelled like Hell. Like metal and rotten meat, ya’ know?” 

“What was the pile, Jeremy?” He sounded tested. 

“Paul was. What was left, left of him. It was his stomach. I recognized it as his stomach, I remember that.” 

“How do you know what a stomach looks like? That’s odd to know.”

Jeremy waved off the question and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes glancing over the table once more. Brenton, realizing he would not get a straight reply, let the question vanish. After a moment or two, a shaky sigh, Jeremy began again, “It was awful, but he showed me. He opened his belly and pulled it out and gave me, he gave me that. He cried and told me how sorry he was. I don’t think he was there but he gave it to me. I washed it, I promise I washed it. It had this slime on it and I washed it and I made sure it didn’t go down the drain.”

On the table sat a ring. His ring. Brenton winced and recalled the evening he pulled over the little ring box, brought his darling close, and whispered that honey-sweet question. Will you marry me? Will you be my dream come true? He never liked big proposals, he mentioned offhandedly once, Brenton took it to heart. And so, Brenton proposed the morning after a long night of love and romance, their limbs entangled, their hearts beating together. Brenton thought he slept like an angel, kissing over his eyelids, his brows, his forehead and temples, his cheeks and nose, over his lips until his lover woke up giggling. Brenton promised to kiss every freckle, his darling said he’d be kissing forever as angel kisses birthed freckles. Brenton laughed at it, asking if that’s why his rear was covered in them. He laughed as well. 

Brenton slept with that little ring box under his pillow to dream of their wedding, for months he slept with it there. His darling said yes and cried in his arms as Brenton slid the ring on, their hands trembling so hard they needed to hold each other just to get the piece on. They were going to be married in the spring when the flowers came back and the birds sat with their eggs. It was going to be lovely. Every time they spoke about it, more and more details emerged and a more and more beautiful picture came to mind. They whispered ideas to each other, promises, late into nights and early into mornings. 

“You two were in love,” Jeremy whispered, snapping Brenton from his thoughts, “You and Paul were in love.” 

Brenton finally broke down. He dropped his head into his hands and began to sob anew. He had lost Paul, he had lost Mike, he had lost his reason to continue. The older man watched as Brenton’s broken heart forced itself to hold together just a little longer. His shoulders shook and his body shuddered, finally crying the tears that had been held back for so long. He had to be strong, he had to keep going, but why without either of his loves by his sides? Yes, he had loved his brother, he was more of a son to him than a brother. He raised the boy since he was just a baby. First steps, first words, first days of schools, first everything; Brenton was always there. Paul was the joy in the evenings, the gentle touch of a lover, every kiss and every whisper pushed him further and further into a better life. They were going to be a family. 

“I was so scared. We both were. Paul was going to go to such a nice school, they wouldn’t let him in if they knew about us. Mike, Mike reacted… So badly… L-Last time I brought someone in like that. He was so scared and angry, he just kept crying and holding onto me.” Brenton babbled out. “He thought I was going to leave him like our ma did. She found a boyfriend and left Mike with me. I, I couldn’t do that to him again. He had, had such awful separation anxiety for years and years. He was so scared when I started dating, I had to keep it a secret from him, it hurt so much that I couldn’t tell him. I’m such an awful brother, I couldn’t be honest with him, I couldn’t keep him safe.” 

“Brenton…” 

“I can’t remember what I last said to him. I can’t remember.” Brenton wept. “I can’t remember what I said to either of them. I loved them. I’ll never see them again. I loved them.” 

He continued to weep for a few minutes longer, then turned his bloodshot eyes to the ring sitting on the table. His hands trembled as he reached out and took up the piece, as delicately as one would lift an injured bird. He held it cupped in his hands, sniffling, weepy, tracing his finger around the rim of the ring. It felt cold. He was so lucky Paul had a twin brother, he was able to look at his brother’s ring to find a good fit for Paul. It was rare that he ever wore it on his finger, more so wearing it on a lovely chain around his neck and hidden under his shirts. To keep it close to his heart, he whispered to Brenton. 

“Did he tell you anything?” Brenton asked in a soft tone. “… W… Why was the ring in his stomach? Did he tell you?” The other shook his head, he had no answer. Paul only apologized, he whispered without a tongue and Jeremy somehow understood every word. Brenton held the ring close to his chest and began to cry again, bowing his head, body shaking. Everyone was gone. 

Mike was a garden and Paul was a pile in the basement. 

And Brenton was utterly, awfully, alone again. 

… 

Brenton Schmidt’s name looked so foreign at the bottom of the page, he slowly set down the pen and looked up to the man across the table from them. The old man reached over and plucked up the contract, glanced it over quickly, then chuckled. The man beside him, tall, bundled up in oversized jackets and wrapped in bandages, kept his head down. All three damp from the rain outside.

“I’ll see them again, won’t I?” He asked in a defeated tone. The old man nodded. 

“You’ll see them again. They’ll come to you. You’re a comforting source to them and they’ll come.” The man commented. “You start on Monday, build the place up, it’s yours. It’s easy work, Mr Schimidt. You’ll watch a few videos to get you prepared, then do some work on animatronics. It’s nothing technical, just like… Interviews… To make sure they are working properly.” He waved his hand in a bit of emphasis. “Just like we’re talking now.” 

Brenton slowly nodded. The man hummed, the barest of smiles peeking through his bushy beard. He offered Brenton a hand to shake.

“Welcome to the Fazbear Family, Mr Schmidt.”


End file.
